


survivor

by realmsoffreedom



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 14:33:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6380032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realmsoffreedom/pseuds/realmsoffreedom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the sudden urge to relapse arises, Dan thinks back to when Phil first found out about his self-harm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	survivor

**Author's Note:**

> So I guess I'm in a writing mood today...this sort of just happened. I randomly got inspiration, and here I am.
> 
> Heavy trigger warning for self-harm, if that triggers you, don't read. Enjoy.

It takes strength.

When you’re recovering from a self-harm addiction, the strength it takes not to relapse is colossal. It takes courage and determination and willpower, because it’s just so fucking easy to look at knives as paintbrushes and your wrist as the canvas. At least, that’s what would be going through the mind of someone who cuts or used to cut or is thinking about cutting. It’s not something normal people think about. Then again, many people think anyone who willingly slices into their own flesh can hardly be classified as “normal”. 

It’s so fucking easy to relapse. That’s the hardest thing about it. He’s gotten so close way too many times, and each time, he’s regretted getting that low. Every time he catches himself staring at his bare wrists or scrolling past an occasional triggering picture on tumblr, the all too familiar ache and burn in his wrists is more inviting. 

He knows that relapse would be a horrible decision, especially since he’s been clean for so long. It’s been four years, but that doesn’t make sharp objects any less inviting. And Phil knows it too, bless his heart. He’s still just as careful with Dan as he was when he first found out. 

Dan remembers that day well.

_“Dan, when you go to Tesco, can you- holy fucking shit!”_

_His head snaps up in a panic, and that’s when he realizes he forgot to lock his bedroom door. Phil is staring at him with wide eyes, his gaze shifting from shock to worry immediately. He wouldn’t be surprised if Phil hated him now, kicked him to the streets after telling him how disgusting it’d be to live with someone who willingly tears their own flesh apart._

_“Phil, I-” he stammers out some garbled mess of words about how sorry he is and how he never wanted Phil to find out, his stomach dropping as Phil turn around and disappear from his line of sight._

_Well, that’s the end of that. A four year long friendship, gone. He’s fucked it up. Just like he’s fucked up every good thing in his life, he has to fuck up the best thing. Phil is the best thing that could’ve ever happened to him. Hell, he’s the only reason Dan hasn’t gone deep enough to die or decided to jump of the roof of their building and put an end to the pathetic existence that is his life. And now Phil’s probably packing his bags for him, disgusted and unable to bear another second living in the same flat._

_Dan doesn’t think he’s hated himself any more than he does at this very moment. God fucking dammit._

_He drops his head and lets his tears fall freely, his vision blurring and distorting. The blood on the carpet mixes with his tears, creating a big mess that Phil’s going to have to clean up. Hell, maybe he’ll move out of the flat too, unable to stand looking at that awful stain every time he steps into what’ll soon be the guest bedroom._

_“Here, lift your head. You’re okay, I promise. Let me clean you up, okay?”_

_His heart skips another beat and he picks his head up in surprise once more, seeing Phil kneeling in front of him. He’s brought supplies, gauze, disinfectant spray, and bandages, along with a bar of chocolate and a bottle of water._

_“I…I thought you hated me…”_

_“Don’t be stupid,” Phil says gently, reaching for his bloodied arm. “I could never. I need to clean your arm up first, before we talk about this. I don’t want your cuts getting infected.”_

_Dan nods, having more to say, but not having the energy to have the argument right now. He lets Phil dab away the blood, and looks down in guilt when his boyfriend gasps at the sheer amount of cuts and scars lining his wrist. The blood hid them before, but now that he’s wiping it away, Phil can see everything._

_If Phil is disappointed or angry, he doesn’t make it apparent. He just goes on, deftly cleaning Dan’s arm, spraying it with disinfectant, and wrapping it in bandages. When he finishes, he looks to the drops of blood on the carpet, and Dan flinches._

_“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “Please, don’t hate me too much. I didn’t mean to stain it.”_

_“What? Dan, I’m not angry at you,” Phil replies, in one of the most gentle voices Dan’s ever heard. “I could never be.”_

_“But I…I cut, and it’s disgusting and wrong for someone to cut themselves and like it, and I stained your floor and made you all sad and I’m just a shit person all around, really,” he rambles, trying to string words together in the form of an apology, and utterly failing. He’s definitely going to need to find a new home now._

_“Hey, stop,” Phil says, resting his other hand on Dan’s shoulder. “Don’t say that. I’m not mad at you. I want to help you, Dan. I want to understand, and I want to help you recover. You just need to talk to me, alright? I’m here. I’m going to help you through this. I want you to be okay, bear.”_

_At the mention of his childhood nickname, Dan breaks. Tears break through the flood gates, falling down his cheeks and clinging to his neck._

_“Come here.” Phil pulls him onto his lap, and Dan buries his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder, hiccupping and choking on his tears as he tries to calm down. “Dan, hey, you need to calm down, okay? You’re gonna have a panic attack at this rate. Everything is okay, I promise. You’re okay.”_

_Phil coaxes him through multiple breathing exercises, until his heartbeat finally returns to normal and he’s able to breathe again. The other lad reaches up and thumbs the tears away from his cheeks, shaking his head. “There you go, do you feel better now? You’re okay, I promise.”_

_Dan shrugs. “You know my deepest, darkest secret.”_

_“I want to know why,” Phil replies. “You don’t have to give me all of the details if they’re too fresh in your mind, but can you please tell me what brought you to this?”_

_“Life, I guess,” Dan mutters. “Insecurities. Hating myself, hating everyone around me, being bullied, being the anxiety-ridden recluse that I am. All that combined, and you have a really fucked up person.”_

_“Where is he?” Phil asks. “I don’t see him anywhere. All I see is a beautiful boy with such an amazing personality, and the brightest potential ever, who just lost his way. All he did was stumble a bit, but now, he has the means to be helped back up. You can get through this, Dan. I believe in you. I love you.”_

_“I love you too,” Dan replies, letting his head flop back into the crook of Phil’s neck. “And I’m sorry I’m so shit. I have so much baggage and you had no idea what you were in for when you offered to have me move in.”_

_“You’re right, I didn’t. But that doesn’t mean it bothers me. There’s nothing wrong with you, Dan. Nothing. You’re just a little broken right now. But what’s broken can be fixed, and trust me, having you move in with me was the best decision I’ve ever made. If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve gotten a pet I’m allergic to and probably died.”_

_Dan grins, chuckling a little at that, although it’s muffled by Phil’s body._

_“There we go, there’s that smile I’ve missed,” Phil says fondly. Dan looks up again, tilting his head forward to meet Phil’s lips in a kiss._

_“I love you, so much,” Phil murmurs, kissing his hair. “And I know love’s not enough. You won’t be recovered by a single ‘I love you’ or me taking your blades or me acting like some kind of drill sergeant that forces you to quit cold turkey. But I’m here to help you, and I want you to be okay. So whatever you need, whatever it is, I’m here.”_

_“I need you,” Dan answers, so soft he’s almost inaudible. “All I need is you. I don’t feel like I need to cut when I’m in your arms, Phil. It’s the only time when my entire body doesn’t want the blade. You make me feel something different…something beautiful. You make me genuinely happy, and honestly, no one has been able to do that except you.”_

_“Let’s go to bed, okay?” He knows that he’s sleeping in Phil’s bed tonight, so when Phil makes his way to his own room, rather than Dan’s, the warmth in Dan’s heart grows a bit. His boyfriend is the best person in the world, literally. “Hey, listen, if you ever feel like you need to cut, I want you to come to me. I don’t care if I’m home, not home, sleeping, editing a video, doing a liveshow, I want you to come to me, no matter what. Promise?”_

_“I promise.”_

_Recovery really is going to be one of the shittiest battles he’s ever fought, but lying against Phil’s chest, with his boyfriend whispering sweet nothings into his ear and rubbing his back, makes him feel like he can do anything._

“Dan, hey, you okay? You looked really zoned out for a minute…”

“I want to relapse,” he whispers, so soft Phil has to strain to hear him. And when he does, Phil’s demeanor shifts. 

He shuts his laptop and sets it off to the side, before opening his arms and shooting Dan a reassuring smile. 

Dan goes into his arms immediately, curling up as small as possible into Phil’s lap. His breathing is heavy and he doesn’t realize how much he’s shaking, until he feels himself practically vibrating against Phil.

“You’re shaking so bad, shit,” Phil mutters. “Breathe, baby. Everything’s okay. I’m right here. You’re okay.”

“I really wanna cut, Phil…”

“I know,” Phil sighs. “But you’re not going to. You’ve been clean for four years, bear. You’ve come this far, and you will get through this. It’s always gonna be hard, but you’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you. I love you so much.”

“It’s so hard,” Dan hiccups, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his face into the crook of Phil’s neck. “It’s so fucking hard, and I don’t know how much longer I can last. It’s been four years, and the urges are just as bad as they were when I first stopped!”

“Shh.” Phil rubs his back gently, and leans down to press a kiss to his messy hair. “I know it’s hard, baby. But you’ve gotten through it. Four years without a blade, and you’ve managed so well. I believe in you. You’ll beat this. And yeah, you’ll probably always have urges. That’s why most recovered alcoholics try to stay away from wine, because even though they aren’t addicted anymore, it’s still triggering once you start, because you can’t stop. And if you relapse now, it’ll be so much harder to stop.”

“I just…I feel like no one likes me, and I hate myself and everyone hates me, and fuck, I really don’t want to exist anymore, Phil.”

Phil tightens his grip. “I know, today’s just a bad day, okay? We all have them. Yours are shittier than most. But you’ll be okay. I promise. Just let your mind shut off for a bit. You’re overthinking yourself deeper into this hole, and you really don’t wanna do that.”

Dan cries for a few more minutes, shaking and trembling furiously in his boyfriend’s arms. At some points, he even tries to start scratching at the healed skin on his wrists, but Phil keeps him from hurting himself. With a sigh, Phil holds his boyfriend’s wrists, one in each hand, and rolls the sleeves up.

Faint, white scars line the insides of both Dan’s wrists, so pale they’re almost completely faded. Phil drops Dan’s right arm, bringing his left to his lips and kissing one of the scars. “See? They’re almost gone, and even if they don’t completely fade, they’re a reminder that you’re a survivor, baby. You survived. You beat this. You got through the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, and you can survive anything, from here on out. I’m so proud of you, Dan. I love you so much.”


End file.
